


rather be causing the chaos

by constanted



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, becomes the Cool Older Sister Who Does Crimes that angus deserves, cameos from a Lot of Characters, i'm very tired, it's me canon divergence bee back again with more content about lup and angus, tldr: lup doesn't die; accidentally adopts nerdy toddler instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: The boy is otherwise alone—his mother had mentioned that her father was still around, but never gave a name or a city or anything of the sorts. He doesn’t have a Taako to do what her brother did for her. He doesn’t have a Lup to do what she did for her brother.She might as well give him one.(or: the one where lup and angus become a grift-running, mystery-solving team for the ages.)





	rather be causing the chaos

**Author's Note:**

> this was so dumb, but it wouldn't get out of my head. let angus get a new cool older sibling! god! i also wrote this in like, two hours, because i haven't written anything real in a month.
> 
> so, enjoy!
> 
> title from home by gabrielle aplin.

Taking in the kid is an accident, but she doesn’t want this one growing up like she did. 

His mother, a human woman named Iona—young, dark-skinned, gap-toothed, a librarian—let Lup stay in her home, near where the gauntlet was last spotted. Iona doesn’t care for the relics, doesn’t want to get near them. The bell killed her partner, she says, before the kid had even been born.

Lup takes note, in her mind, to never tell Barry about that.

The town, one day, begins to burn, as most towns do. She’s ready to run out and grab the gauntlet, but Iona stops her. The woman is carrying a bucket of water, has been rushing door-to-door-to-door since the first sign of smoke.

She says, “Take him,” voice trembling, “And get out of here. You—you keep huntin’ these things down, but get out of here, and get my _son_ out of here.”

The boy is two years old. 

The look Iona is giving her is forceful, confident. Lup wants to protest, but Iona pushes her towards the child, and she complies. She runs out of the city limits, kid on her back. She watches as this tiny town burns and turns into glass. The man who had the gauntlet escapes, badly injured, but he escapes.    


Fucking magic, she thinks. 

The kid says, “Where?”

Lup says, “She’s gone, darling,” and she sighs, and she shakes. The boy is otherwise alone—Iona had mentioned that her father was still around, but never gave a name or a city or anything of the sorts. He doesn’t have a Taako to do what her brother did for her. He doesn’t have a Lup to do what she did for her brother.

She might as well give him one.

She’ll save the next city, then, she thinks.

She always thinks it’ll be the next city.

She’s hitched a ride on some caravan to the aforementioned next city—Phandolin, it’s called. A mining town.

She’s at a tavern, the kid at her side. A dwarven fellow who almost resembles Merle approaches her, says, “Well, Miss, you strike me as the adventuring type.”  
  
She leans over her staff and says, “Well, Mister, I’d say that you were struck correctly—“  
  
He notices the child.

“He yours?”  
  
“In a way, yeah. Name’s Angus. He’s a sweetheart. Takin’ care of him since his mom passed.”  
  
“Well, you can’t just leave him to help me with an errand, then.”  
  
“How simple of an errand?”  
  
“I found a certain—rare item, let’s say,” says the dwarf, “And I’d like to put it in my vault.”  
  
“Does this pertain to the Grand Relics?” she asks, leaning over the table.

“Look, missy, I’ll find somebody else.”  


She wants to scream, to prove that she's powerful and that she can handle anything, but the dwarf has already left. Angus pulls on her ear as she's about to run after the man, and she smiles, relaxes. She can stop him when he comes back. 

Three days later, there are two funerals in Phandolin. Two men—one Cyrus Rockseeker and one Wesley Almar died inside a Rockseeker family vault.

She sighs in relief that it’s where no one can find it, at least.

The boy sits on her leg, looking up at her.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Relieved,” she responds.

Though she doesn’t know why. Something in her head feels fuzzy, feels wrong.

Like she’s forgetting something vital. Something important.

She’s going to Neverwinter tomorrow, she decides, show the city. But first, she’s gonna sleep off this migraine.

She carries the kid back to their room, and she passes out almost immediately.

The next few years are full of traveling and teaching the kid everything she knows about science, about magic, about the world. She’s always been the smartest one. She’s not sure what group she’s comparing herself to when she thinks that, but she knows it’s true regardless.

This kid, though, he gives her a run for her money. 

By age four, he’s speaking like a grown-up. Which, she thinks, at least, is weird, for humans. Sure, the grown-up he’s speaking like is foul-mouthed and sneaky, but that’s just a sign that she raised him well.

By age six, he’s reading complex texts on arcane theory that she almost _definitely_ slept through the lectures of, back home. (His two favorite genres are kiddie-mysteries and academic papers on Magitek theory. This is deeply upsetting, that she’s raised a _nerd._ But she’s also proud. That too.) He likes the traveling, and says it’s a better education than boring-normal-school anyway. Because it is. She’s goddamn smart and she did this same thing.

But she didn’t have her. She didn’t have anyone. So he’s got that leg up, too. He’s the sweet, baby brother she never had.

By the time he’s eight, he proposes that they stop wandering aimlessly.

“Why not, uh, try and do something to make the world a little better?” he asks.

“Whaddya mean?”  
  
“Like—we saw that traveling chef, a few months ago? He’s doing what we’re doing, but with a _purpose._ ”

“I swear to the gods he stole that recipe from my aunt, kiddo.”

“What I mean is,” he says, “I think we should solve mysteries. For money and also, for mystery solving. And notoriety and fame.”

“Obvi.”  
  
“Yes, of course.”  
  
“Okay, Encyclopedia Brown, you got a business plan?”  
  
“We market ourselves as the world’s greatest detectives. Crackin’ clues, solvin’ crimes, gettin’ it done! And we’ll be _good_ at it, Lup, ‘cuz I know everything there is to know about detective-ing, and everybody in the whole world likes you! Also we can get money. And run grifts. And I know you like that.”  
  
She pauses.

And she smiles. This could be fun.

“Let’s fuckin’ do it, then. We’d be unstoppable, if we get it right.”

Business is shoddy and inconsistent at first. It’s better than just plain old cooking and busker-ing, more exciting, and it pays better, but there’s not many people who take the two of them seriously.

But word of mouth is the best form of advertising, and when they get work, they _earn_ that advertising. They gain notoriety. They’re fucking _good_.

The Goldcliff militia hires them, on occasion. Their contact is always the same halfling woman, who always defends the hell out of them whenever an officer laughs. She gives the two of them the spare room her apartment, introduces them to her girlfriend, and disappears to a garage.

Which is to say, the lieutenant and her girlfriend are definitely Battlewagon racers. Angus is concerned about the legality, for a moment, but Lup’s taught him well enough that doing dope shit with people you love is more important than the law.

She’s not quite sure when she learned that, but she knows it’s true.

The lieutenant and her girlfriend spoil Angus, love Angus, and Lup appreciates that. In the six times Lup and Angus help out, they try and set up Lup with their friends. Lup always says no, but she’s flattered. She can’t imagine being stuck with the same person forever. The closest thing she has to a constant is Angus, but she’s not sure if he counts. 

Humans stress her out. She doesn’t like it when her mind goes to the subject of Angus’ mortality—that, barring disaster, he’ll die centuries before her. Unintentional as it may be in his case, he’ll leave her the same as everyone else has. He’s a flicker in her lifespan. Sometimes, she’ll lose him for a minute when they’re working a case, and she’ll panic, thinking he’s gone already. She’s not used to people staying.

Angus’ tenth birthday is spent in Neverwinter. There’s cake and ice cream (despite his lactose intolerance) and she gives him a book she found at some rickety old magic store. It can intercept messages, a feature which he almost squeals about. Gods, he’s a nerd. She ruffles his hair as he rambles about the Caleb Cleveland spinoff book that the lieutenant sent him.

Rockport is where things change. The militia’s called them in to catch the Rockport Slayer, who Angus tracks down to one of the people on board the Rockport Limited. They agree to split up—Angus plays the innocent orphan boy, Lup plays an adventurer whose next quest begins in Neverwinter.

Of course, this plan is ruined by three dipshits. Angus tosses her a note that reads that said three dipshits—a sleepy-looking elf, an overexcited human, and a corny-ass dwarf—are not who they say they are, which, given the way they act, should be no surprise. 

“Y’know, Taa-Justin,” says the human, “You and she look kinda—“ he squints, “Y’know, now that I look closer, never mind. Trick of the light.”  


Angus is approaching her, looking inquisitive.

“Hello sirs!” he says, chipper as ever.

“Who the fuck are you?” asks the elf.

“I’m Angus McDonald, we met earlier! Did you enjoy your trip to the pleasure room?”  
  
“Oh, uh, yeah,” says the human.

“And one more question. What are you guys’ names?”  
  
“I’m Diddly, that’s Justin, and he’s Leeman Kessler.”  
  
“And I’m Lup. Just, ‘cuz—we don’t know each other.”  
  
“Lup, let’s—let’s cut this act. Sirs, I mean your real names, that you guys actually have! I know you're Taako, 'cuz Lup and I saw your show and she thinks you stole your recipes from her aunt!”

After some exposition, most of which Lup tunes out, she and Angus follow the men—boys, they call each other—back to their quarters. 

“So,” she says, “This whole stitch leaves us with four suspects. Jess The Goddamn Beheader, Juicy Wizard, Creepy Butler, aaaand Conductorman. Anyone wanna place bets? Cuz I’m putting money on Creepy Butler.”  
  
“That the same as shitty wizard?” asks Taako, “Cuz I don’t think he’d waste spell slots on _murdering_.”  
  
“Or maybe that’s what he saves them for, goofus,” she says, “Listen, he’s obviously a shitty wizard and a creepy dude, but history proves that those are, like, top ten most likely murderers.”  
  
“Fair,” says Taako, like that’s something he’s not used to saying. She smirks.

And then, there’s a noise.

“Another win for Taako,” says the man in question when they see Jenkins’ dead body.

The events on the train unfold exactly as expected. Lup plays a supporting role in Magnus’ stunt, covering him in a flaming shield and, on occasion, sculpting spells outside of the train to hit the slayer.

When it’s over, she ramsacks the vaults, looking for anything of worth that could help her make some cash. She stumbles upon a monocle.

_I can make anything real,_ says the monocle, _Use me. I can make your dreams—_

It’s tempting, but she says, “Fuck off,” which she assumes looks strange to those watching. Fuck them anyway.

“That’s it, I think,” says Magnus, “Uh, can we have that? Please? It’s for work.”  
  
“Where do y’all work?”  
  
All three of them talk over each other, Taako clearly lying, Magnus stuttering out something among the lines of truth, and Merle just speaking in static, which the other two had done earlier. Something is restricting what they can tell her and Angus.

She makes an executive decision, “I want you to take us with you,”  
  
“She did resist it,” says Magnus, and he shrugs, “And she’s pretty cool. Nice fire spells—“

“Yeah, you’re good at magic, whatever. You think the Director’ll try and kill the kid too, or just her?”  


“Just her. She’s stoic, but she’s got a heart in there, right?”  
  
“Oh, definitely.”

“Sorry, I’d rather we don’t speculate on whether we’ll get murdered.”  


That the boys summon a bubble from the sky is almost unsurprising.

The face their boss makes when they introduce her and Angus  _is_ surprising, however, in that it’s one of complete and total bafflement.

“You’ve heard of us, then,” she says, and faux-curtsies. Angus does the same.

The woman known as the Director mouths something like, “A smaller one, oh God,” and then snaps back into perfect posture, intimidating boss-lady.

“Boys,” she says, “You can head back to your—well, actually, you have a new dormitory now, as there were some issues with one Robbie. I’ll have Davenport show you, uh. Davenport.”  
  
And a cheerful-looking gnome takes the trio back out.

“Look, I—Angus, was it?—Angus is an unconventional hire, so to speak. Of course. We’d normally run recruits through a physical challenge, but—I think that, as we were entirely unprepared for new recruits, and also, because Angus here is quite literally ten years old, my God, we’ll just have you fill out paperwork. Lup, you—you resisted the thrall of the Oculus?”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” she says, picking up one of the hundreds of pens on the Director's desk, “Is it hard, or somethin’?”  
  
The Director sighs, “Yes, Lup, it is. I’m—Angus, I’m going to train you with our Seekers, because it feels—it feels wrong of me to send you out on Relic Retrievals. You can be in contact with Lup, who will—she will join on as a Reclaimer, I suppose.”

The Director looks almost nervous.

“Lup, not to—not to be intrusive. How did you come about—picking up a boy genius?”  
  
“His house burned down. I was stayin’ there for a little while. Lookin’ for something, I don’t quite remember what, and—and the house caught flames. This was during the Wars, so, uh, I’d assume it was the Relics. I took the kid and ran at his mother’s request, been takin’ care of him ever since.”

“Did you live anywhere, or—?”  
  
“We travelled the world, Madam Director, ma’am,” says Angus, “It was very exciting!”

“I’d assume, Angus,” she laughs, “I’d assume. I used to travel.”  
  
The Director has a look in her eyes of someone who is more well-travelled than anyone else in the universe. The Director has a look in her eyes of someone who regrets the aforementioned traveling.

“I’ll show you to your quarters, then,” she says.

Once she’s gone, Angus says, “So, uh, this might be our biggest mystery yet!”  
  
“Angus McDonald and the Case of the Grand Relics,” she makes gestures, “Very well-received. Hits all the emotional beats.”

“Well, you’re on the case too,” he says, and he beams. He looks alarmingly like his mother, from what Lup remembers of her, all gap-teeth and enthusiasm and an awkward kind of confidence.

He is more than an accident, she decides, more than a flicker.

“So,” he says, “What do we do now?”  
  
She ruffles his hair, “Whatever we need to do, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up with those comments, kudos, etc.
> 
> part of me is tempted to continue this, but like, then i'm writing two multichap fics where it's just aus where lup kicking the story's ass. which, we need, but. also, c'mon. i can't be typecast, with my fic-writing.
> 
> i'm @yahooanswer on tumblr


End file.
